


Thick as Thieves

by blueoleandar93



Series: How To Save The Entire Conceivable Universe and Over Throw Its Leader: a Guide Written by Three Dumbasses and Their Toddler [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Awkward Boners, Breakfast, Brotherly Love, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Castiel's Tan Trenchcoat (Supernatural), Conversations in the Impala (Supernatural), Cooking, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Episode: s15e09 The Trap - Dean Winchester's Prayer Scene, Episode: s15e13 Destiny’s Child, Family Feels, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Post-Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Post-Episode: s15e13 Destiny's Child, Sam Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Sleeping in the Impala (Supernatural), The Impala (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23742676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueoleandar93/pseuds/blueoleandar93
Summary: Dean woke up with his head in Castiel's lap. The Impala doors were locked tight, sheltering them from the storm as Castiel watched over him throughout the night. The morning sun brought domesticity to the Winchester household, but Dean couldn't help but feel insecure about his place in his angel's heart. Meanwhile, Billie has more work for them. Their story is far from over.15x13 Coda // Week 3 // #SpnStayAtHome Prompt: Thief
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: How To Save The Entire Conceivable Universe and Over Throw Its Leader: a Guide Written by Three Dumbasses and Their Toddler [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691902
Comments: 9
Kudos: 129





	Thick as Thieves

Dean woke at sunrise. His eyes cracked open as he blinked with a big yawn, the rising sun hot in his eyes. There was a hand in his hair. A big hand. It was thick and manly. Familiar. Warm and healing. Strong fingers massaged his scalp gently, smoothing and twining through his dirty blond locks. _Please be Castiel_ , Dean prayed. He noticed clean black business slacks and worn old boots with their soles placed firmly on the floor of the Impala. Angel. The locked car doors felt like home around him. Cracked windows let that cool, heady, wet morning dew smell in with the wind. 

Dean must have fallen asleep back here. He closed his eyes again. That felt better.

It's all coming back to him.

While on the phone with Jack, it had started to rain. A few drops weren't an issue, but it picked up. Strong winds and big, fast droplets fell hard, causing them to take immediate shelter in the car. Dean ran into the backseat, pulling the angel in with him with the wet phone to his ear. Laughing with Jack about their situation, the angel closed the door behind them. The car was dry and safe. Rain pattered loudly against the windows and roof. Dean crawled into the seat shivering, wet and a bit cold. Cas huddled in close to his human. Castiel promised to keep him warm so that they didn't have to start the car to put the heat on. 

Dean jumped at the opportunity to fall into Castiel's arms, but he didn't say anything right away. Dean was insecure and ashamed of how eager he felt. Almost as if he knew he would be romantically rejected by the angel if he enjoyed it to much. Dean was convinced Castiel wouldn't feel a thing for him as they huddled close in the backseat of the Impala under the stars of rural Kansas. He could hold Dean Winchester or an old swamp slug and feel the same non-existent urge to become sexual. That thought felt like a sharp icicle stabbing at Dean's heart until it cracked. It was the only thing he could think about. Rejection. Not now, but soon. Eventually. 

Raising a child together in an underground bunker with a demon dungeon and enough floor space to create stable portals to Hell really brightened that decade-long torch Dean carried for Castiel. Unfortunately, Cas isn't as indirect as he is. If Cas wanted him, he would have said something by now. He wouldn't stand guard outside his bedroom door every night like a dutiful golden retriever, he would open the door and run inside. But he never did. That told Dean all he needed to know.

So, the gruff hunter rolled his eyes at the angel. Dean muttered "I guess" as he scooted over and pushed himself into Castiel's arms. _This means nothing, this means nothing. Don't get your hopes up._ Dean reminded himself.

Dean leaned his back into Cas's nice big burly chest. It was nice. And cozy. And so warm. 

_I am so fucking in love with him._

They didn't need to turn the heat on.

Dean soaked up the intimacy with a shy smile he couldn't hide, relaxing into Castiel's body. Dean wouldn't be surprised if he saw this very moment copied in his personal heaven years from now. He loved this. Castiel rested his scratchy chin on Dean's shoulder, increasing the human's heart rate. When a trenchcoated arm made its way around his waist to keep him close, Dean stuttered so hard he almost dropped the phone, confusing Jack on the other line.

He remembers feeling like a bashful lovesick idiot, melting like butter in Castiel's strong arms as they cuddled and talked their toddler into going back to bed. Dean was so screwed.

By the time Jack finished his cereal, the boy was ready to get some more sleep. Dean followed Jack's contagious yawn with one of his own. Their son said good night to them through the phone, and they ended the call. 

Good. Everything was finally becoming good. The Winchesters were a family again. They were all working together to fullfil Billie's plan. Soon, Chuck will be vanquished and finally, there will be peace. Things were looking up.

Hanging up, Dean tossed his cell into the front bench toward the driver's seat. _Let's sit for just a few more minutes_ , Dean said as the rain crashed down on the car, _'till it clears up_. He wasn't ready to let go of him. 

Castiel allowed it, the stubble on his chin grazing Dean's ear as they talked quietly in the backseat of the Impala. Dean blushed in the darkness and leaned in closer. So, Cas held on tighter. The deep rolling timber of Castiel's voice in his ear relaxed the hunter, his arms keeping Dean close and safe.

He remembers bits and pieces after that. Waking for small moments to get more and more comfortable in his sleep. He vaguely remembers having his face on Castiel's shoulder for a bit, and another moment where he had curled up on his lap. Before long, Dean found himself laying down. 

Now, normally laying down felt pretty good, but laying with his head on Castiel's lap felt better. The angel had immediately made the decision to play with Dean's hair. While he slept, Cas continued, fingers tangling and petting quietly as the rain tapped against the windows. Dean could feel that large, otherworldly presence of the angel in the car. Even in his sleep he knew that Cas was wide awake and waiting patiently. Probably staring. Castiel sat firm as a rock. Like a stable wall of protection. 

Cas watched over him until the sun came up. Dean felt so safe. He remembers when he used to fight that feeling. But, nowadays, he welcomed it. This stability and safety is a gift. Castiel gives this as an act of devotion to his humans when they're at their most vulnerable. Dean loved him for that. Not that he would ever admit it out loud or anything.

"Good morning, Dean." Castiel said, voice gravelly and deep, but gentle. "It's sunrise. Do you want to head back home? Everyone will be up soon."

"Mmm. That feels good." Dean smiled to himself as Cas ran his fingers through his hair, "Just a few more minutes."

Castiel answered fondly, massaging softly at Dean's head, "You said that almost three hours ago."

"Did I?" Dean opened his eyes tiredly, turning his head in Castiel's lap to look up at him. The angel had a raised eyebrow and a no nonsense attitude about him as usual. His dark curls weren't damp anymore with rain, but from this angle his lashes were incredibly long. Dean blinked harder as his eyes acclimated to the brightness. Cas gave Dean a hard blink back, wrinkling his nose. 

Good gracious, Cas was such a dork. A little sexy though. Very sexy, actually. Devastatingly sexy. Dean swallowed thickly. He clenched his jaw, catching an extremely inappropriate moan in his throat and converting it into a deep disdainful sigh. It was so early, and Cas was just so beautiful. Too beautiful. Dean's blood boiled in his veins. His body woke with his mind. This is why they shouldn't sleep together -- especially in the car. 

_He is my best friend! Why am I like this?_ Dean thought to himself as he yawned out sleepily, "What time is it, man?"

Castiel replied immediately, "6:42."

Dean groaned, "6:42? Shit. I said I'd have breakfast done by 7:30. Why did I promise the kid?"

Castiel smirked, answering with fondness in his eyes, "Because you made up with him last night. When you feel emotional, you cook for your family. It's sweet."

"Sweet? Please. I'm not _sweet_ , I'm a warrior." Dean glared, stretching his arms and pushing himself up from where he was sitting. He pressed a hand against his forehead and groaned. "Demons fear me."

Castiel smiled widely, "I'm sure they'd find you absolutely terrifying in your Jayhawks apron. And matching oven mitts."

Dean grunted, clearly embarrassed. "Don't make fun of me for knowing my way around a kitchen, okay? You can't even boil hot dogs."

"I'm not making fun. Here, let me fix this..." Castiel reminded, leaning over to straighten Dean's sleep wrinkled collar, "And, I can. Boil hot dogs, I mean."

"I've never seen it."

"That makes sense. You've banned me from using the stove. For life. Quite dramatic if you ask me."

"You _burned Ramen noodles_." Dean defended himself, flailing his hands around as he remembered the event that had caused Castiel's lifetime ban on half the Bunker's kitchen appliances, "Who burns Ramen noodles? I didn't even know that was possible. It's technically soup."

Castiel remarked haughtily, lifting his chin, "I was under a lot of pressure at the time. As I recall, there was quite a bit of backseat driving."

"For good reason! I know it was years ago, but dude. I am traumatized." 

The angel sent Dean a stern glare.

Dean paused and gathered himself, "Look, I can't physically get breakfast done by 8 without at least a little help. Sam's been going all P90X every morning, so he's out of the question and it absolutely pains me to ask you because... you know... you're you." Dean sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose in stress, "But, since I'm giving out second chances and lollipops today, I'm gonna need you to sous chef. You up for that?"

Castiel nodded, "Yes! Of course. I won't let you down." 

Dean raised his finger, "This is strictly on a trial basis! And I'm keeping an eye on everything you do, okay, no going rogue around open flames."

Castiel rolled his eyes, "It's not like I'm going to burn the kitchen down--"

"Ramen, Cas!" Dean shouted, deeply offended, eyes piercing and stern as the angel watched him overreact with an unimpressed look on his face. "Ramen!"

Cas looked out of the window away from Dean, clearly sick of defending himself, "Oh, calm down. It wasn't even that big of a fire."

Dean glared, " _Castiel_."

Cas folded his arms and sighed, "If I agree to your terms, will you put this to rest already?"

"Yeah."

"Fine, Dean." Castiel lowered his chin, swearing to his human in a flat tone, "I will do exactly what you tell me to do with no complaints. I'll let you watch until completion, or at least until you're satisfied. We're both quite good with our hands, so as long as we do it together, I'll make sure we finish."

"I... uh..." An unintelligible string of words got caught in Dean's throat at the sound of that. Dean didn't know if it was Castiel's deep voice or the fight he just won or the fact that it's _morning time_ and he's a man with healthy blood pressure, but he grew a bit flustered. Heat rushed under his skin. Fresh jets of testosterone sang in his veins as his body got ready for an event that was never going to happen. Oh, no. A once moderately explainable problem just got bigger. And harder. And thicker. Dean clenched his jaw as he looked away from the angel and out of the rain streaked window beside him. Maybe if he sits here and hates himself enough, he'll stop being so goddamn sexually attracted to someone he can't have.

Castiel asked, "Dean, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Leave me alone." Dean groaned. He was not alright. Dean wanted to bang his best friend. Castiel is his strongest ally, his confidante, his key strategist, his fellow soldier, his guardian angel. And here Dean is getting excited after spending the night cuddling all over him in the backseat like some lovesick tween. Dean's a complete mess. He's constantly embarrassing himself in front of Castiel. 

Why can't he just be more like Sam? 

Why can't he be friends with Cas without wanting to grab that cute little confused face and kiss him stupid? Probably because Castiel is a hot soldier seraphim and he's incredibly strong and has the kindest heart in the known universes. Dean is into all of that -- and men. Dean is extremely attracted to men. It's usually fun and all, flirting and hooking up and exploring pleasure with another guy. But this isn't just another guy. This is Cas. Cas is weird and aloof and gentle and sweet and he's everything to Dean. Damn if he loses him again. Dean just got him back. He refuses to chase passion for one moment. He already knows how it will go. Dean pointed toward the steering wheel, "I'm gonna head up front and start driving." 

"Dean?" Castiel asked in confusion as Dean suddenly ripped open the car door like he was escaping a prison cell. He had this strange, unreadable energy about him as he did so.

From the backseat, Castiel watched as the hunter pushed himself out of the car, taking off his green jacket and shoving it in front of his pants as he walked around to the front seat. The angel leaned up to unlock the door manually and Dean slid into the front seat, jacket balled up on his lap. He peeked into the backseat, eyes shifting away with embarrassment when they locked on to Cas's kind baby blue stare. Castiel observed the strange human as he shifted uncomfortably in the front seat and adjusted his mirror. Cas asked, "Dean, are you alright? Did I say something wrong?"

Dean looked at him through the mirror, cheeks and neck burning as he started the car, "No, drop it. We're going home."

The engine roared to life, and Castiel asked when it subsided, "Will I get to use the stove?"

"Absolutely not! Coming back from the dead does not effect lifetime bans on kitchen appliances! We've had this conversation!"

* * *

Predictably, Castiel was a total mess of a cook. 

He stirred at a big bowl, it's wet contents sloshing around and splashing his coat as he concentrated on mixing. This was his first time making pancake batter. Dean could tell from halfway across the kitchen that the angel had used way too much milk. They're gonna have a lot of pancakes. Dean can tell. Too many to eat. He rolled his eyes, grating homegrown Kansas russet potatoes to make some hash browns, "Cas, throw a little more flour in there. Baking powder too. You gotta dry out that batter just a bit. Any wetter and we're gonna end up with crepes."

As the angel reached for the sack of flour with powdery, sticky hands, Dean added sharply, "When I said 'throw', I meant pour it into the bowl gently with a little measuring cup! We've established that you can't eyeball it. And for the love of all that's holy, please wash your hands again. You're making a mess all over the counter."

"I'll clean it up." Castiel promised simply as he scooped out a full heaping cup of flour and quickly dumped it into the bowl.

Dean warned, "Nononono, that's way too much--"

Castiel looked up from the bowl, an unbothered expression on his face. "Hmm?"

Dean let out a deep sigh, his forehead tapping the table as he fell forward.

"You said to use a measuring cup." Castiel lifted the biggest measuring cup in the kitchen, smeared in flour and gook, "I used a measuring cup."

"I said the word 'little' twice, Cas."

Castiel made a grump face. _Great, now he's taking it personally._

"Oh, this is a nightmare..." Dean muttered under his breath before speaking up, "I know you only taste molecules, baby, but the rest of us don't. Please give me the bowl." 

Castiel complained, "But, Dean--"

Dean gave him a strong look, "Give. Me. The bowl. You're on potato duty now."

"Let me do the pancakes. I started it. I can finish it."

"Cas. You said you'd listen." Dean said moodily, folding his arms over his black tee shirt. "Grate the russets."

"Fine, but don't call me baby. I'm not a baby." Castiel set down the bowl on the counter. The batter splashed up, hitting his coat with more spots and streaks. "Uh oh."

Dean sat up straighter in surprise. Whoa. Did he really just call Cas "baby" out loud? Must have slipped out. Dean sighed heavily, annoyed at himself _and_ the messy angel. 

He let out a big breath, pushing out from his seat at the kitchen table. He left the soaking bowl of potatoes, the grater, and the rest of his tools where they were. Dean walked over to the angel and took him by the shoulder, steering him towards the sink, "First, hands. Wash them. Please -- don't touch the faucet, it's gonna get dirty. Just let me."

Castiel waited as Dean turned the water on for him. The angel dipped his hands under the warm stream. He soaped and tidied his hands up. Then dried them. He turned to Dean, "Now potatoes?"

Dean shook his head, "Now, you take that coat off. It's gooey and gross."

Castiel scoffed at that, "It's not gross. I'm cooking. Accidents happen. I'll clean it later."

"You're gonna get batter everywhere, you messy angel. I'm in charge, and I say..." Dean took hold of the trench lapels and pushed them down his shoulder, "Take it off."

Cas's shoulders were broader than Dean expected, arms stiff as a stone at his sides. That coat wasn't going anywhere without the angel's help. Cas began to move a bit, allowing the coat to fall a bit, but they struggled to work as a team. Dean moved in. Castiel looked up at him. His eyes were so pretty up close. They were this mesmerizing electric ocean that Dean just wanted to drown in. 

Dean pushed his suit jacket too. He was breathing a bit heavier. Cas's warmth was everywhere. His hair was so cute. Dean's always liked those little curls. Cas lifted his large hand to Dean's face, pulling him in a bit as he brushed his thumb against Dean's cheek, "You had a bit of butter on you." Dean's heart made a break for it, slamming against his chest wall. His palms were sweaty, eyes hazy and unfocused. 

Castiel seemed pleased as punch. He looked at Dean with amusement in his eyes, closed lips turned up a bit as he moved in and shimmied to get it down his arms. Helping Cas out of his coat and jacket, Dean crowded in closer, his hands smoothing the shirt down his arms. As he did so, the angel dropped his coat and jacket unceremoniously on the counter beside them. The moment Dean's palms landed on those thick biceps, his mind went completely blank. His breathing slowed. Dean surveyed every inch of the coatless angel, his lips feeling dry and a bit lonely. That white oxford of his was going to get so messy. Maybe he'll get Cas out of that too. He really, really wants to.

"Well, well, well. What did I just walk in on?" Sam said loudly. He was sweaty from his morning run, hair damp and face glowing as he headed to the fridge for a water bottle. "Need some privacy? I can go."

"No." Dean pushed a half dressed Castiel away from him, the stone still angel barely moving an inch for his efforts. Due to that, Dean basically pushed himself off of the angel towards the floor. Before he could even begin to fall, Castiel grabbed him around the waist to keep the flustered human upright and safe against his body. Dean's hands flew to Cas's chest to stabilize himself. Whoa, those are pecs under that shirt. Thick, sturdy, hot. Now, they we're holding each other -- the best thing at the worst time. Dean blushed harder, slapping Cas's hands away from his hips. He launched himself a few large steps back, "Nothing. W-we're cooking."

Sam opened the fridge, looking through for his treasure and cooling himself with the air, "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Dean folded his arms, "Sam."

Sam chuckled, "Hey! It's cool with me. Just be safe. Use condiments."

Dean glared at Sam, "He's helping me make breakfast, alright? Don't be weird."

"Helping? Since when do you let anybody help you in here?" 

"Since fuck you." Dean folded his arms. "That's when."

Sam laughed, uncapping a water bottle in front of the open fridge, "Jeez. Touchy."

"Yeah, whatever." Dean said, neck and ears getting redder by the moment, "Tell the kid that breakfast is at 8."

"Jack texted me 7:30." Sam closed the fridge and took a long sip. "He said you 'promised'."

"Yeah, well, he'll live. He had cereal in the middle of the night. I'm making good on my promise. Breakfast is on the way. I just..." Dean glanced at the floor, "Got distracted."

"I'll bet."

"Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam answered, turning and taking the water with him, "I'll tell Jack to let you finish breakfast. Thanks for making the food, guys. I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Good! You need one! Cuz you're gross!" Dean yelled after him.

Sam laughed as he left the room, "Yeah, whatever. I'm not the one drooling over Cas on the communal kitchen counter. Don't forget to wipe up."

Dean hissed, "Shut up, Sam! I don't drool over Cas!"

They could hear Sam's laughter from the hallway.

He turned back to Castiel to find the angel sitting at the table. His jackets were hanging on the chair behind him. In his shirtsleeves and tie, Cas ground a russet potato against the grater, little strips coming down with ease. He focused on getting the job over with.

Great. Now, Castiel was upset.

Dean took a few steps toward the angel, "Cas--"

Castiel kept grating the potatoes refusing to look up from them, "You should focus on your pancakes. I'll let you know when I'm done. Wouldn't want any drool in the hash browns."

Dean walked over to the counter, taking the messy batter bowl and spoon with him as he strode through the kitchen. The hunter snagged an egg from the carton Castiel had left out, cracking it with one hand, adding it to the bowl, and tossing the shell in the trash. 

This is not what he had planned. Being so close to Castiel brought out all kinds of feelings. Especially now that they're back together. 

There was this beautiful, peaceful softness between them since Dean's prayer in Purgatory. Cas was hurt by the events leading up to their split, more than he had let on. He must have been thinking about leaving for a very long time. Dean wasn't loving or caring or kind. Nowhere felt like home anymore. Not the Impala or the bunker. That feeling came from his family. And Cas and Jack are family. Pushing them away, knocked his whole life off balance. Hurting them felt like hell. Castiel knew how he wanted to be treated, and at the end of the day he didn't love Dean any less. He just wanted a big fat wet "I'm sorry". He deserved it and Dean owed him that. So, Dean confessed his guilt and promised to do better. He cried. He hated himself for getting so honest with Cas, so emotional. He almost said too much -- like, never go again, I'll hold you every night, I love you, Castiel. After the prayer, things between them were healing. Cas held him and forgave him and walked back into his life with no question. On some level, they need each other. Dean's sure of it. 

Castiel knows Dean can be a bit touchy and their communication is shoddy at best. There was just so much Dean couldn't tell him. Sometimes he thought the angel could feel him holding back. Stern and stoic as he may be, he brought this raw energy out of Dean. Those powerful urges that Dean forced himself to ignore came rushing back up when he undressed the poor angel. Rarely does Dean have the opportunity to see Cas out of that bulky coat. And as soon as Dean got his hands on him, his brother walked in on them and his walls slammed back up. He pushed Cas. Twice. 

Then, Sam laughed at them. It was all in good fun, Dean knows. He did the same to Sam when Eileen was over. But, Cas isn't a cute girl. He's a multidimensional wavelength shoved into Claire Novak's 40-year-old dad. Sam's laugh was genuine, but not cruel. He teases because he loves them both. Every now and then, Sam whispers the theme song to "Touched By an Angel" at Dean, cackling like a hyena as his big brother slaps at him with heavy hands. 

Meanwhile, Castiel sat hunched over the kitchen table aggressively grating a large russet into oblivion and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Dean doesn't necessarily know how they got here, but he felt let down. If only Sam didn't walk in...

But he did. 

And now it's awkward.

Mixing the bowl with a fresh wooden spoon, Dean glanced over at the angel. Castiel's hair flopped a bit, curls brushing his forehead. Dean just wanted to push it back with his fingers. He knows it would feel soft. Then Castiel would look up at him. He would smile. He would jump into Dean's arms and they'd push the mess off of the table and make out all over it.

Instead, Dean went to the stove and cooked.

* * *

They'd just started plating breakfast when Jack came around the corner, yawning in a long grey robe that was way too big for him. It was dragging behind him on the floor, trailing his small steps like a train. Is that Dean's dead guy robe? Yes. It is. Little theif. Whatever. Jack can use it for now. He knows it's cozy.

The savory smells from the kitchen must have brought Jack in. It was 7:55. 

Dean didn't hold back with breakfast this morning, and Cas actually ended up being an incredible chopper and stirrer. Plus, Dean didn't need to use his phone timer with an angel around. Dean had told Cas to take things out or add things in. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes more. Castiel was always right on schedule. They'd whipped together scrambled eggs, hash browns, grilled sausages, blueberry yogurt with granola, and mounds of fluffy pancakes piled high with powdered sugar and strawberries. 

The boy's face lit up when he saw the spread, and it positively made Dean's day. He's glad the kid didn't seem so defeated anymore. He's glad they made up. As Dean spotted Jack hovering in the kitchen doorway, he pulled Cas in close by the elbow and asked him to finish setting up the plates for everyone. 

Dean waved Jack into the kitchen, "Hey. Morning, buddy. You hungry?"

Jack nodded, smiling tentatively as he walked into the room. He wasn't entirely comfortable yet. Dean remembered Castiel's words from last night. Jack looks to him. They may have spoken on the phone but this is the first Dean has seen of him since he ran away from the kitchen yesterday. Jack needs reassurance that everything is alright. And that's Dean's job to honor his word and provide the peace he promised.

Dean walked over to the kid and wrapped his arms around him. Jack's hands went up quickly, clutching onto his dad as he pressed his face into Dean's chest. He was shaking. Dean felt the boy relax, he had been carrying a lot of tension. Dean ruffled Jack's fuzzy blond locks. "We're okay. I meant it, alright? No bad blood. Moving forward."

Jack sniffed a bit and Dean felt his shirt getting a little damp. Uh oh. Not again. He's not good with waterworks. 

Dean continued to talk through his own anxiety around difficult emotions. He didn't know what to say, but he refused to mess this up. "I, uh... I know you been feeling down, buddy, I get it. Things are gonna just be fine real soon, you'll see. You got me. You got all of us. We're not here to judge you, okay? We all fucked up, but we're a team first. Ya hear me? Winchesters versus the world."

Jack pulled himself out of the hug, cheeks wet but secure as he looked up at his dad. "Thanks, Dean. For everything. I don't know if I can ever make this right--"

"Hey. You don't owe me shit and that's final. Not up for debate. Alright?" Dean cuffed the kid's chin, and smiled to himself as he did so. That strong bone structure under that baby face made him look so much like Cas sometimes. It was everything to Dean to look at his son and see his angel staring back at him. "Now, go sit down! Eat. Just try everything out, okay? We even made strawberry pancakes. Ever had those?"

Jack shook his head, eyes widening at the prospect, "No. I haven't."

"Well, that ends today." Dean patted his back, "Go wash your hands and pick a seat, kiddo."

"Thanks for cooking, Dean." Jack said brightly, heading over to the sink to clean up for breakfast.

As he walked away, Dean noticed something on the floor. There was a small pile of long white feathers with golden tips lying scattered at his feet where Jack had been standing. Dean bent and picked one up. He turned to Cas to ask him what all this feathering business was about. Must be angel-y.

Castiel had set the table and was now placing four plates down in front of each respective chair. His eyes were sharply focused on the task at hand, but Dean could tell Cas had been watching the interaction between him and Jack. There was a small upturn to his mouth, and as far as Cas goes that's a full on grin. Dean's heart felt warm. Castiel was happy with him again. It was possible after all. They were becoming closer as a family. Dean just had to get over himself. 

The sink turned on behind him as Jack washed his hands, and Cas glanced up at Dean as he set down the last plate. Castiel immediately noticed the feather in Dean's hand, glancing to the floor to see the pile Jack's wings made.

They locked eyes for a long moment, sharing that time together and breathing it in. Cas mouthed the words "thank you" to Dean from across the room. 

Dean blushed and scratched behind his neck, nodding back wordlessly. Castiel smiled back, a soft warm thing. Dean stuffed the feather into his pocket.

"Something. Smells. Awesome." Sam bounded into the kitchen, steps loud and big as he took up space in the room. The hunter admired the table and walked up to it with hunger in his eyes. He'd thankfully showered. He smelled nice. Dean let out a sniff. Hmm. Dean glared his patented big brother glare. Probably missed that spot behind his ears. He always does.

"Watch your step, Sam." Dean pointed at the floor, "The kid's shedding all over the place like a goddamn house cat."

Sam stepped over the pile in his boots and kept moving forward. All wrapped in flannel and denim, Sam clapped his hands and sat down first. The chair groaned and squeaked in complaint of the compact weight of a man nearing 6'5'', as Sam exclaimed, "I'm so hungry!"

"Yeah, I know. You always are. Dig in, Sasquatch." Dean chuckled, heading over to the table to have a seat beside his brother, "I got Cas to squeeze some orange juice for us and it is ridiculously pulpy. You _have_ to try it."

"Ew." Sam lifted the glass of "juice" in front of his plate, peering into it with a green look on his face, "So... do I... chew this..."

"Unless you want to choke, yeah." Dean laughed, patting Sam's back and watching as Castiel guided their son to the breakfast table.

Sam shook the glass a bit, surprised that the juice didn't move, "Can I have a spoon at least?"

"Don't be a bitch, knock it back."

The angel and nephil sat down across from them at the table. Jack quickly grabbed a fork and cut into the strawberry buttermilk pancakes. They split easily, fluffy and light with a bit of syrup dripping down them. He took a big bite and tasted it. Then he looked up slowly, eyes wide as he stared at Dean. 

Dean nodded at him in understanding, a huge smile on his face as he watches Jack enjoy his food. His chest puffed with pride, "Yeah. I know. You're welcome."

Jack chewed with his chipmunk cheeks stuffed, pure joy on his face. 

Sam smiled fondly and started in on his pancakes too, "I remember the first time Dean made those. It was so good. Basically a pile of sugar. My... eighth grade graduation, right?"

Dean sliced into his sausage. "Yeah! But I used Mrs. Butterworth's and some dollar store strawberry jam instead of the real thing. You shoulda seen his face though." The hunter chuckled as he took a bite of his breakfast, "He moaned super loud! And the couple in the room next door started banging on the wall. Oh, my god it was priceless."

Sam glared, "Eww, Dean. I didn't moan like _that_."

"They were like 'tell your girlfriend to calm down'!" Dean cackled. "It wasn't that good, but what can I say. Sam's a fan."

"Oh, shut up."

Dean laughed loudly, putting a fork into his pancakes.

Jack finished his bite and gazed over at Castiel, "Dad, did you help?"

Castiel rubbed Jack's shoulder, picking a few feathers from his robe, "I did. Try the potatoes. There's a special ingredient. One you know very well."

Jack started to smile, "Then it's going to be extra good."

Castiel added, "And twice as special."

Dean snapped his head over to Cas, eyes sharp and worried, "Did you add something to the pot when I wasn't looking? Cas. Come on. This recipe is finely crafted! Forty years in the making--"

"I didn't deviate from your precious recipe." Castiel patted Jack's wrist as the boy took another bite, "It's an inside comment between the two of us. You're getting worked up. Eat your breakfast."

Dean's jaw dropped at Castiel's bluntness. Dean grabbed his fork, taking a suspicious bite of his potatoes. Cas was right, everything tasted fine. He shrugged and turned back to his plate, "Well, Cas, I'm just saying. Family meals are a specialty of mine, alright? I've mastered the craft."

Sam chuckled as he quoted a line from a song named Tyrone, " _He's an artist and he's sensitive about his shit_."

Dean grumbled, "Okay, Erykah Badu. How about you Erykah Ba-don't?"

Jack spoke up, "I like her. Her voice is pretty and her name is so fun to say."

Castiel nodded, "It is. Maybe next time we go on a case, you could try it out."

Jack gasped, "Agent Badu. That sounds so cool!"

Dean took a bite of his hash browns, "Jesus, we're gonna have another Spears and Aguilera moment. I can feel it."

Suddenly, there was a creaking sound and a slam from outside the room. 

The front door had been opened. 

Sam, Castiel, Dean, and Jack all looked at each other for a moment. They switched to high alert. Castiel reached behind him, soundlessly pulling out his angel blade from his jacket. Sam and Dean grabbed the emergency guns out of the holsters under the table. Footsteps clicked down the steps, slowly making their way to the kitchen. 

Jack's eyes flashed gold and he pushed his plate away from him, turning toward the kitchen doorway.

A long scythe appeared, Billie following as she walked into the kitchen unannounced, "Sup."

Dean lowered his gun, growling out, "Do you have to give us a heart attack every time you pop in? Couldn't you call first?"

"No." Billie glanced down to the pile of nephilim feathers in the middle of the kitchen. She looked as pleased as they'd ever seen her. Her leather jacket caught the light, dark shadows playing off of it as she walked over to it in her boots, "I see you found the Occultum."

She strolled through confidently, bending to take a feather from the floor. 

Castiel blurted out, "Wait! What are you doing with that?"

"Saving your ass." 

Sam spoke up, "That's Jack's feather. We deserve to know."

"You'll know when you need to." Billie answered cryptically, pocketing a feather into her leather jacket, "In the meantime, there's something else I need from you."

"Ain't there always?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"There's a place. A secret place. A room. Only two beings in the known universe have visited this room since the dawn of creation. You must find the location of this room and notify me." Billie instructed, folding her arms over her chest, "The magic that hides this place from all creation is the magic that will bind Chuck. We need him to be stationary. With your help, Jack, we will _keep_ him in place. He tends to flit around, endlessly watching and writing. We must stop him from moving, and cut him off from his stories. Only then, will we have power."

Sam asked, "What, so we're gonna put Chuck in some kind of penalty box?"

Billie shrugged, "Not exactly, but sure. If that makes it easier for you to see it that way. More is underway."

Castiel asked, "You mentioned two beings have visited this room. Who?"

Billie answered, "Chuck and Metatron."

Castiel stiffened at the sound of his name, looking away and tightening his fingers around the angel blade before him.

"I thought we were finally done with that damn Hobbit." Dean glanced over to Cas, seeing his distress as he hissed at Death on his angel's behalf.

"Think again, Dean." Billie raised her chin, looking over at the table.

There was a long silence in the room. She surveyed the bounty of breakfast foods they had just began to enjoy. Her face was stony and still, an unreadable expression upon it. Billie pointed at the center of the table toward a heaping stack balancing on a plate.

"Is that a pancake with strawberries?"

Jack nodded, pointing to the short stack everyone had on their own respective plates, "They're delicious." 

Billie strode over to the table slowly, glaring at the meal as she glared at the items. When she reached it, she scoffed at the stack of extra pancakes in the middle of the table made from Cas's excessive batch of batter. "Hmm. That's a lot of sugar."

With that, she disappeared. 

The plate of extra pancakes had also disappeared. Wow. She stole their pancakes. 

Castiel hummed with understanding, "Death does enjoy unhealthy foods."

"Billie! That wasn't an offering! We were gonna eat that! Come back here!" Dean yelled at the empty kitchen door, "Theif!" 


End file.
